From Father to Son
by chris400ad
Summary: Ignotus Peverell was dying, but it would be a few more days before he let death welcome him. There was one more thing he needed to do.


From Father to Son

Ignotus Peverell was dying. He knew that one day it would come to him. It was the only certainty in life: death. His brothers had believed they could conquer death, and that they would go on living forever. They were dead now, of course, long forgotten even by most of those who had loved them. Even Ignotus thought about them less and less these days. They had been rash and foolish, arrogant and proud, and it had been their undoing.

Ignotus, he was a simpler a man and knew that life was no sprint. He bent with the wind, letting each blow take him where it would, enjoying the journey and never knowing his destination. Like a twig in a river, Ignotus had been taken by the currents of life. Better men than he had come before him, his brothers, certainly, his friends, soldiers and travellers, scholars and ministers. They had all died in the end. Most of them horribly proving a point that wasn't theirs.

As the days wore on and the days shortened, he had been forced to wonder about his existence. The life had led, the choices he had made. He hoped they were good ones. In the lighter hours he had taken to writing a letter for his son Amadeus. He bore the middle names of his uncles, Antioch and Cadmus but he rarely used them. They were a reminder of the pitfalls of ambition and the folly of pride.

Ignotus smiled fondly at the thought of his son. Amadeus was a kind soul and a good man. The cloak would be safe with him, Ignotus was sure of it. Still he would explain it, he owed him that much. He just needed a few more days. His arms ached, and his eyes had started to wane. As for his mind. Well, that had grown fog that was thick and all consuming. There would be days when he would trapped in it. Lost in the dark of his head. No. He needed more time. Just a few more days. Then he could go.

They found him, days later, hunched over the parchment. Life had seeped from his frail body, sucked out of his bones and leaving nothing but the fragile corpse behind. The letter was left unopened for a time, a dark time in that of his son. Amadeus wished not to read his father's last words, for then his death would be complete and he could no longer out run it. Yet, once the pain had numbed and time had passed he sat to read what his father had said.

 _Amadeus,_

 _My son, I have always tried to be there for you. You were everything to me, my one constant, my shining light. Your mother would have loved you, but the gods had other plans. I know you wanted to know her, to meet her just once. For that injustice I can only promise that one day you will meet again and she will be so proud of all that you have become._

 _I hope that I could be all that you needed and that you will continue to grow into the man I know you can be. Do not think this a hardship, my son, more of a temporary farewell. Your mother is waiting on the other side, and soon I must join her. I have missed her, and you have always reminded me of her. Not just her smile, or her eyes, but your kindness. Do not let this corrupt you, always be kind, even when it hard. Always be loyal, even if others are not. Always be true to yourself, for no-one else will be._

 _But I do not write this letter for advice, it is to offer you a warning and extend to you my hopes that perhaps you will follow it. My invisibility cloak it is unlike any other. It will never fade over time, nor will it be able to be stripped from by magic. It is a great lie that I have kept for most of my life. We were granted, your uncles and I, a magnificent power. They chose to try to conquer death, and I chose to accept that it would always be waiting for me. The cloak allowed me to slip through its fingers, more than once, and now it pass it onto you._

 _Do not tell anyone what it is. Let its magic die. Let it become just another cloak. A family heirloom, a rite of passage for your children, but never breathe a word of its power to anyone. This cloak in the wrong hands could be dangerous. There are those who wish to attain a pardon from death, they believe this cloak, and the wand, and the stone their answer. They are wrong, but ignorance does not negate cruelty. It only enforces it._

 _But now I must go, my fate is sealed and I grow weary of this discontent. My boy do not fear death, it comes for us all, in the end. Fear a life unlived, a life without love, a life without hope. Do not live as many do paralyzed by the dread of what might be or might not. Life will not indulge you, only seek to remind you that it is to be lived. Not shied from._

 _I love you._

Amadeus only truly grasped the meaning of the letter years later, as he held his own new-born son. A new life, a wonderful gift and he would never get to see its end. Just like his father Amadeus would greet death like an old friend, not try to out run or defeat it. Death was always coming, the value of life was not in its end but in the journey.

As for the cloak, that soon became a myth. A legend woven in their family tree, passed down from father to son, to daughters until eventually its power was not noticed. Just as Ignotus had wanted. The Peverell name would fall away, replaced by that of Potter, and the cloak would stay hidden until it was needed.

One last time.

 **AN: Prompt a character preparing for their death. Natural or unnatural.**


End file.
